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Sunday, November 5, 2017

Guardian Angels – An Interesting Life (17)

"He doesn't look like a dastardly
criminal," Evan said. They were sitting in his car, parked across the
street from the auto repair shop, with Paddy and Dom invisible in the back
seat. The man he was talking about was standing in the shop's doorway smoking a
cigarette, a billed cap pulled low, probably to shield his eyes from the
sunlight.

"You're presuming that's him," Vic replied.

"From what I can see of his face, he looks like
the picture you found, so yeah."

Vic laughed. "Touché."

Everyone got out of the car, the two angels remaining
invisible. They crossed the street and were greeted by, "May I help
you?" from the man when they came up beside him.

"Mr Peake?" Vic asked.

"That would be me."

"A friend recommended you."

"Does this friend have a name?"

Vic glanced around before saying, "Can we go
into your office to talk?"

"We can, as long as you realize it's Saturday
and I close at two." Peake dropped his cigarette butt on the ground and
headed inside. As they followed, Vic heard Paddy say, "The man working on that red car at the back of the garage is one
of the pair who tried to break into Evan's house."

Vic quickly ducked his head, getting between Evan and
the mechanic, just in case the man looked their way. He was—to put it
mildly—startled to hear Paddy's voice in his head. But then, given what he is, I suppose he can do that. I wonder… "I
thought you said they didn't know who hired them." Vic figured he'd
try the whole 'mind talking' thing, since it worked one direction, maybe he
could do it too.

"They
didn't, since it was all done by phone. Perhaps Mr Peake disguised his
voice?"

"Or it
wasn't Peake who hired them. We did consider the phone might have been
stolen."

By then they were in Peake's office. The man sat down
in a battered chair behind an equally battered desk, looking up at Vic and
Evan. "So who's this friend?"

"I have a question first," Vic said.
"Do you have a cell phone with the number 555-6162?"

"Not any more." Peake's mouth tightened
angrily. "My wife watches the office sometimes when it gets busy and I'm
needed out there"—he pointed to the garage area—"so I leave the phone
in here with her.A couple or three days
ago, she's helping some guy who says his car needs worked on. Stupid…" He
shook his head. "She goes out to look at it with him and when she gets
back, the phone's gone. I asked the guys about it. They said they didn't see
anyone take it, so I figure maybe it was the man she was helping who copped it.
If it was, who knows where it is now?"

"Did she get his name or a description of the
car?"

"Name? No. The car was blue, like a million
others in the city." Peake shrugged. "She may be good with people;
she's lousy when it comes to identifying cars. Just said it wasn't old,
whatever that means."

"Not a Model-T," Vic said with a grin.

"Yeah, that would be about it. Anyway, the phone
is long gone so I got a new one, which sucks because I had to go through the
records to put in all the numbers I had on the old one—suppliers, customers,
and what have you."

"Employees?"

"Yeah, them too. Why you asking?"

"I think that phone was used in the commission
of a crime."

"Damn. You're a cop?"

"No, a private investigator." Vic took out
his wallet to show Peake his ID.

"And you thought maybe I was involved because it
was my phone number."

"Yep."

Peake shook his head. "I got enough to keep me
busy running this place. Besides which, it brings in good money. I don't need
to be doing anything illegal to blow that." Peake smiled when someone came
into the office. Vic turned and saw a woman who looked vaguely familiar,
although he couldn't put his finger on why. He figured she must be Peake's wife
and found out he was right when Peake introduced her as "Virginia, my better half. You can ask her
about that guy."

Virginia tilted her head in question. "What guy?"

"The one you were helping when my phone
disappeared."

"What did he look like, Mrs Peake," Vic
asked.

"Maybe six foot, dark hair graying at the
temples, horn-rimmed glasses, mustache. I've never seen him before—or since, as
far as that goes. I asked him if he wanted me to get one of the mechanics to
come with us to look at his car. He said no, that he could show me the damage,
I could tell Carl, and find out what he thought it would cost to fix."

"What kind of damage?"

"Bent fender. Nothing big. I told him what our
usual rates were for that. He said he'd get back to us and that was it."

"Was he alone in the office at any time?"

Virginia nodded. "Only for a second. He had a coffee mug
with him when he came in and left it on the desk, so he went back to get it.
Like I said, it only took him a second."

"Long enough to pick up the phone too,"
Peake grumbled. "If it was him that took it and right now, I'm betting it
was."

"No bet," Vic said with a brief smile.
"Okay, I guess that leaves you in the clear and me no closer to finding
the guy I'm after. Thanks for your time."

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About Me

Born and bred Cleveland, I earned a degree in technical theater, later switched to costuming, and headed to NYC. Finally seeing the futility of trying to become rich and famous in the Big Apple, I joined VISTA (Volunteers in Service to America), ending up in Chicago for three years. Then it was on to Denver where I put down roots and worked as a costume designer until just recently.
I began writing five years ago after joining an on-line fanfic group. Two friends and I then started a group for writers where they may post any story they wish no matter the genre or content. Since then, for the last two years, I’ve been writing for publication. Most, but not all, of my work is m/m, either mildly erotic or purely ‘romantic’, and more often than not it involves a mystery or covert operations.